Remembering
by Badgergater
Summary: Season: 7, early: As Daniel regains his memories, he remembers things he and Jack need to talk about


Remembering

Author's Note: Actually, I have to thank Mona for this one, because her wonderful Jack/Abyss fic got me thinking once again about that excellent episode, and it's aftermath, and all the unresolved issues it raised.

Thanks Cokie, for the beta.

/-xx-\\ /-xx-\\

"_We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a __memory__ of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.__" __Tom Stoppard _

/-xx-\\

Daniel Jackson's past had been coming back to him in bits and pieces, like parts of a jigsaw puzzle that had been dumped out randomly, wheat with chaff. They existed without order, without context, individual pieces lacking a coherent whole and, to make it even more difficult, without a picture to guide him in reassembling it.

A piece here, a piece there, he fitted each into place, but the process continued to be agonizingly slow and difficult.

Daniel was sure there were still gaps in his memories, and that was both frustrating and frightening, not to know what he didn't know. Not to know what was missing, what important parts of his life might still be lost in the shadows. Wondering what would reappear next. Not knowing what he was expected to know, and what he might need and not have at a crucial moment.

It was odd, the way his past re-emerged. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it, just memories floating up out of the dark void within his skull — a person, a place, an idea, a conversation, things arriving all jumbled. Sometimes, recollections appeared in a mighty avalanche of memories, cascading out of the nether reaches of his brain. Sometimes, there was one tiny flash of recollection appearing sharp and perfect and solitary, without the connections that gave it context. Other memories were faded and fuzzy, like a distant vista seen through a shroud of fog.

Sometimes, he was terribly confused.

/-x-x-\

This morning, he'd awakened with a vivid new memory front and center in his brain. It was like it had just appeared there, in his head, fully formed and complete, and very disturbing.

Daniel needed to talk to someone about this, someone he could trust.

There was a time when he would have turned to Jack O'Neill. He had reclaimed enough of his memory to know that, while often Jack was his adversary, on many levels, Jack had been his mentor, his big brother, his friend, sometimes his confidante. He knew Jack could be brash and crude, especially on the surface, but he could also be compassionate and understanding.

But something had changed.

Since his return, Jack was wary of him. The signs were subtle, difficult for him to discern when he didn't have all of his past to compare against the present, but definitely, something was very different. Daniel had reclaimed a scattering of memories of their friendship: Jack showing up in his office, lounging back in the spare chair, picking up the objects from his desk and toying with them, looking comfortable and at home in Jack's diffident way. There were memories of he and Jack having coffee together, or lunch; of good natured arguments, even heated disagreements that somehow always worked themselves out okay in the end.

Vivid memories of an easy camaraderie that had, somehow, turned uneasy.

It had left him baffled.

He thought he had the answer now, in what he'd just remembered.

Walking quickly through the halls of the SGC, Daniel went in search of Teal'c. Funny, he could talk to Teal'c about anything, despite the fact that the big guy was an alien. Maybe that was in fact why, because Teal'c was an outsider, struggling to understand Tau'ri culture, the way Daniel struggled to understand the military culture or Jack speak or his own jumbled past.

He found the big Jaffa in his candle-lit quarters, kneeling on the floor, eyes closed in silent concentration.

Daniel paused in the doorway.

The dark alien eyes opened and the bald head nodded very slightly, acknowledging his presence "You may enter, Daniel Jackson, and join me, if you wish."

Daniel smiled hesitantly. "Thanks." He stepped into the room, slid to the floor, and assumed the same cross-legged pose. The candles flickered, providing an amber light while the scent of exotic incense filling the room.

The hustle and bustle of the SGC seemed far away.

The room was silent for long moments.

Being around Teal'c was soothing, Daniel thought. The big man was filled with a subtle quiet, a calming tranquility, like sitting beside a bottomless pool.

"Is something troubling you, Daniel Jackson?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Perhaps not to others. But I know you well."

Daniel smiled again. "Yes, you do, Teal'c."

"Are your lost memories troubling you?"

"Newly found memories, actually." Teal'c was easy to talk to, always willing to listen without judgment.

"You have remembered another incident from your past."

Daniel nodded.

"And it is unpleasant."

"Not so much for me."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"For Jack."

The Jaffa nodded minutely. "O'Neill has had many painful experiences."

"This was one of the worst." Daniel hesitated, and then explained. "While I was ascended, Jack was taken prisoner, wasn't he?"

Teal'c nodded. "Due to Kanan's duplicity, O'Neill was captured by Baal."

Daniel shuddered at the memory of his friend's agony, of the man dying time after time, weakening and fading. "Baal tortured him and killed him, over and over."

"I am aware of that, as are a very few others."

Daniel closed his eyes, as if to banish the memory, but it was futile. The memories were there, unforgettable, of Jack trying to be stoic and sarcastic; Jack denying he had the answers to the questions he was asked; and in the end, Jack pleading for it to be over with. Daniel swallowed. "I was there. With him."

The eyebrow lifted skyward once again.

"I tried to help."

"Your presence would have given O'Neill great comfort."

"It did, I think. Before I failed him."

Once again, the eyebrow lifted. "That I do not believe."

"You should. I let him down, Teal'c."

The Jaffa sat silent, waiting for his teammate to go on.

"Jack asked me to help him escape."

"As an ascended being, you could not do so," Teal'c noted, confidently.

"That's what I told him. But it wasn't entirely the truth. I could have done something. I should have done something. He was desperate and he asked for my help and I refused."

"I do not believe that, Daniel Jackson."

"You should." Daniel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I did try. I offered him ascension."

"O'Neill refused." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

"How did you know?"

"That would not be his way."

"He didn't feel worthy."

"I do not believe that O'Neill would be happy 'glowing'."

Daniel smiled. "He said that, too."

Teal'c nodded.

Daniel looked down, then met the Jaffa's gaze with an apologetic smile. "Jack asked me to help him escape."

"Which you could not do."

"Right." The smile disappeared, replaced by a look of intense sorrow. But, it wasn't just escaping in the usual way."

Teal'c's eyebrow shot upward again.

"He wanted me to help him end it. For good."

"There is little good in dying."

"That's not what I meant - "

"I understand the euphemism, Daniel Jackson."

"He wanted to die."

Teal'c was quiet for a moment. "In certain rare situations, for a warrior, death may indeed be the appropriate option."

"No."

"You chose it." Teal'c looked at him. "Do you not remember?"

Daniel shook his head. "After Kelowna, yes, I remember. But I didn't choose death. I chose ascension."

"You chose to end your earthly existence. Is that not the same?"

"No."

Teal'c stared silently for a moment. "You are angry with O'Neill for rejecting your assistance."

Daniel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I suppose so."

"And you are angry with O'Neill that he would seek death, when you believed he had other options."

"Teal'c, when I first met Jack, he *was* suicidal. It was just after his son had died and he was like a dead man walking. Cold and empty, going through the motions of living. That's why he went on the first Abydos mission. He was going to set off a bomb to kill Ra, and end his own life."

"But he did not."

"No."

"You had a hand in that decision."

"I think Skaara and the Abydonian boys did more."

"Do not downplay your own role in his change of heart."

Daniel said nothing.

"You should speak with him."

"I don't know if I can." Daniel smiled ruefully. "You know how he is."

"You must resolve your concerns, Daniel Jackson. And his."

"I know you're right, my friend." Daniel sighed and climbed to his feet. At the door, he paused and looked back. "Thank you."

Teal'c nodded. "You are welcome, Daniel Jackson. But I only showed you what you already knew."

/-x-x-\

It was Saturday, and Jack wasn't in the mountain. Daniel drove to O'Neill's neat house in a Colorado Springs suburb. Pulling up at the curb out front, he was relieved to see Jack's truck parked in the driveway. Daniel needed to talk this through, resolve his feelings, deal with the memories, for Jack's sake as well as his own. He hadn't missed the distance Jack had been maintaining from him, the suspicious way the older man looked at him, the flashes of anger, the veiled distrust beneath the friendly words, and, now that he had an inkling of what had happened, there'd been hurt in those brown eyes, too.

Taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders, Daniel climbed out of his car, walked up to the front door and knocked.

He heard footsteps inside and then the door opened.

Jack stood there, looking out at him, his expression indicating surprise but not pleasure. "Daniel." There was no welcome in the word.

"May I come in?"

O'Neill paused as if thinking about it, then nodded and opened the door wide, waving Daniel in and toward the left, down a short flight of stairs and into the living room.

It was a room Daniel remembered well. Floor to ceiling windows looked out to the deck and on into the greenery of the yard. There was an opening into the dining room and from there, a view on into the kitchen. A large fireplace, a comfortable couch, two chairs, and a coffee table filled the room. Photos and medals stood on the mantle and more pictures adorned the walls.

On the wall behind the couch was something new, a framed picture of a young Jack with his wife Sara and their son Charlie. Jack used to keep such photos hidden, Daniel remembered, tucked away in places where a casual visitor would never see the face of his lost son.

It meant something, that it was now out in the open, though at the moment he wasn't sure what.

Jack pointed him to a chair, the same chair, Daniel recalled, where he'd sat on a long ago night. Having just returned from Abydos and owning nothing more than the clothes on his back, and not even those, to be honest, the colonel had rescued him from the SGC. Jack had brought him here and listened to his sad ramblings.

"Want a beer?" the older man offered.

Daniel remembered Jack had done the same that long ago night, but this time, he shook his head no.

"Ah, then I guess you remembered you don't much like it."

Daniel nodded, and sat on the edge of the chair.

Having retrieved a beer for himself, O'Neill returned to the living room and flopped his long frame onto the sofa, twisting open the long neck bottle and expertly flicking the cap into the corner. Holding the bottle by the neck, Jack took a long swallow, then looked over at Daniel, a challenge in his gaze.

The silence lengthened.

Jack took another drink of his beer.

The clock ticked on the wall.

A fly buzzed somewhere in the room.

Outside on the street, a car drove slowly past.

It was Jack who finally broke the quiet. "So, what brings you here?"

"I've been remembering things, Jack."

Jack nodded. "I noticed that." At Daniel's questioning look, he added. "You found your way here. And you haven't called me Jim. Yet."

The younger man shrugged. "Sorry about that. My brain has been pretty much like Swiss cheese."

Jack lifted his beer in mock salute and smiled ruefully. "Welcome to the club."

Daniel looked down at the floor. "Jack," he took a deep breath and said what he had to say, "I remember what happened in Baal's fortress."

A look of pain crossed Jack's face before he shut off all expression, replacing it with a neutral look of studied indifference . "Good for you," he said, his fingers picking at non-existent lint on his sweater.

"I remember it all."

"I don't." The words were short and sharp and dismissive.

"Jack, I-"

"Forget it."

"I can't."

"I can."

"Liar."

Jack's eyes popped open and he sat up straighter, his shoulders tense as his glare bored into Daniel's face. The brown eyes glittered menacingly. "Watch what you say."

"Jack, we need to talk about this."

"No, we don't." Jack's tone of voice was so calm, he might have been discussing his grocery list.

"We do."

For a moment, the brown eyes bored into him, cutting clear to his soul. Wordlessly, Jack got up and walked out of the room, up the stairs and down the hall, toward the kitchen.

Daniel jumped up and followed him. "You can't run away from this."

Jack spun back, his face dark with fury. He pointed at the door. "Get out."

Daniel glared back. "I'm not going."

"Suit yourself."

Jack turned again and started down the hall.

Once more, Daniel followed, speaking to the broad back. "I need to figure out what happened."

"Fine. Go figure it out. You always figure out everything, smart boy."

The anger in the words was cutting, but Daniel knew they weren't meant at him. Not really. "I need your help."

Jack spun, and if Daniel had thought the man looked angry before, he'd been mistaken. Jack's face was white with fury, his eyes were dark as obsidian, his jaw was tight and thrust pugnaciously forward. The fierceness of his expression caused Daniel to step back involuntarily as Jack stalked toward him.

"That's ironic, Daniel, really ironic," O'Neill snapped. "You want my help? When I needed your help, you turned your back on me."

"Jack-"

"Don't Jack me," O'Neill's face was just inches away from his, one long finger poking into Daniel's chest. "You left me there. You could have helped me but you left me there!"

"I didn't want to."

Jack's laugh was a bitter mockery. "You didn't want to? You think that fixes it? What the hell do you think, that *I* wanted to be there? In that position? Hopeless? Dying over and over again with no escape?"

"I offered to help in the only way I could."

"Bullshit!" Jack turned and began to walk away again.

Daniel followed, reaching out to grab hold of Jack's arm, spinning him around. "Why is it you think you're so unworthy, Jack?"

"I have to tell you? You really have forgotten everything you ever knew about me."

"Tell me."

"Don't play stupid, Daniel. It's beneath you."

"Speak for yourself."

Jack raised his fist.

Daniel stood his ground, even during that first instant when he thought O'Neill was actually going to hit him.

Jack glared at him and then, ever so slowly, the clenched fist loosened and lowered, back down to his side. The anger was gone from the voice, replaced by something Daniel had rarely heard from the soldier in front of him, a tone laced with hurt and disappointment. "I went through hell and you stood there and let it go on and on."

"I couldn't stop it."

"Oh, please, don't play that game with me," Jack snapped.

"Did you really think I'd help you die?"

Jack glared, saying nothing.

"I wouldn't do it the first time, and I wasn't about to do it the second."

"So you left me choiceless."

"You weren't choiceless."

O'Neill's tone turned mocking. "Riiiiiiiiight. *You* thought *I* could ascend."

"You could have."

Jack snorted derisively. "Only you would be naïve enough to think that."

"Not naïve, Jack, understanding."

"You understand nothing," O'Neill answered bitterly.

"I understood everything. Then."

Jack took a step forward, back into Daniel's face, his once again angry countenance just inches away from Daniel. The finger was jabbing the younger man in the chest again, hard. "You think you understand? You think you know what it feels like to hold your dying kid in your arms, dying because of your mistake? You think you know how it feels, to have destroyed the one good and innocent thing in your whole life? You think you know what *that* feels like? That you know how the guilt eats away inside you? Do you think I wanted to ascend so that memory could keep sucking away at my soul forever?"

Daniel was shaken, but undaunted. "No, Jack, I don't know what that feels like. What I do know is that ending your own life is never the answer."

"It would have ended the pain." The voice was no longer defiant, but infinitely sad and weary.

Suddenly Daniel understood. "And I remind you of that pain."

Jack's anger seemed to have worn down, morphed into a weighty weariness. His body language changed, his shoulders slumping, his eyes empty and dull.

"And you wondered when I would remember."

O'Neill rolled his eyes.

"And, when I remembered, what I might reveal to someone else."

Jack looked away.

"You didn't have to worry. You know I wouldn't."

There was hurt in the soft-spoken answer. "You couldn't even remember my name."

"I remembered you were my friend. It was one of the first things I remembered, that I knew you and I could trust you."

Jack's gaze slipped over to meet his for a millisecond, then veered away.

"What you went through, in Baal's fortress, was - "

"I'm over it."

"Riiiiiiight. Now who's being naïve? Eh? No one gets over something like that, not even you, Jack."

Jack glared at him, saying nothing. "I've dealt with it."

"You don't ever deal with anything, Jack, you bury things deep inside and build impenetrable walls around them."

"That's dealing." Jack rallied to his own defense.

"Is that how you're going to deal with me? Ignore me? Bury our friendship away inside because I remind you of something you think you can forget?"

Jack shrugged.

"If you're angry with me, say it."

The brown eyes met Daniel's blue for a moment, then slid away, but the wide mouth stayed stubbornly silent.

"Talk to me."

Jack's shoulders slumped slightly, some of the tension flowing out of his body. "I'm glad you're back."

"But?"

"There's no but."

"Liar."

Jack's voice was very matter of fact. "You know, I've punched men for much less of an insult than that."

"So hit me if it will make you feel better."

Jack waved a hand dismissively. "I'd only bruise my knuckles."

"And my face."

O'Neill let out a long sigh. "So. What is it that you want?"

"I don't know."

Jack laughed mockingly. "All this, and you don't know? You must want something, or you wouldn't have driven all the way over here. What is it you want? Want me to throw a party in your honor, for the prodigal returned? How about I take out a full page ad in the local newspaper, 'Daniel's back and we're all happy and life is perfect'? Will that do?"

"I want forgiveness." Daniel hadn't even thought about the words, they just popped out of his mouth, unbidden and unexpected.

Jack laughed, a mocking, hollow sound. "Forgiveness? From me? You are so on the wrong track. Just ask Frank Cromwell. Or my ex. I don't do forgiveness."

"For yourself, either."

Jack shrugged.

"I want us to be friends again, Jack. I want SG-1 to be like it was before."

"That can't happen."

"Why not?"

"Because we can't go back. We never can."

"Well, then we could start over. Start working on that friendship thing again. I'm willing to try, if you are."

Jack shrugged.

"Well?" Daniel insisted.

"Well, you're certainly as obnoxious as ever."

"Speak for yourself."

"And as obstinate."

"Ditto."

Jack shrugged again.

"I'll keep bugging you."

"I suppose you will."

"So, we're okay?"

Jack waved a hand in the air.

"Back to working on the friendship thing?"

Jack shrugged.

That was as close to a 'yes' as he was going to get, Daniel remembered enough about Jack to realize that, that not getting a no meant a yes in Jack-speak. "Thanks."

"Want that beer now?"

It was a start. "Yes, I think I will."

========== The End ==========


End file.
